Awakened To Dream
by avaniheath
Summary: Followup to my fic 'If Only To Live', but can be read as a standalone. Booth & Brennan and the events of the "morning after". If you've read 'If Only' don't bother with this one  this is Ch 2 . Or, y'know, reread it :


**Author Notes:  
><strong>**1. Okay ... this is *technically* a followup to If Only To Live, but can be read alone as well. This is my take on the "morning after".  
>2. I know if Andrew Hacker is an Assistant Director and he's supposed to be Cullen's superior (I'm assuming he's Cullen's boss), then Cullen would be an AD, or SAC (Special Agent in Charge), but I don't like the sound of AD Cullen, so I chose to call him Director Cullen. I've seen enough X-Files to know the ranking in the FBI ;) BTW, I'd love to see Cullen &amp; Dr. Goodman return in season 7! :)<br>3. Booth being right is in reference to their conversation on 'making love' vs 'crappy sex'.  
>4. I know Brennan went to the Maluku Islands, but Booth has yet to actually get the name right, so I stuck with that.<strong>

**As usual, I don't own anyone. These are just random spoutings from the recesses of my jumpy little brain! :) Oh, and feedback!**

Awakened To Dream

Booth awakened to the shrill ringing of the phone in the living room. He glanced at the clock on the opposite bedside table, groaning at the time. 7:47 AM. There was no doubt in his mind who the person was on the other end of the line. It had to be Director Cullen. Or worse, AD Hacker.

'Please, God. Not Hacker,' he thought as he pulled himself quickly and smoothly away from the brunette tucked warmly against his chest in order to answer the phone in the other room. At one time he had admired the man, but ever since Andrew Hacker had shown an interest in Brennan – and worse, she had been interested in him – Booth had decided he really didn't like Hacker.

Brennan stirred from a wonderful dream by a phone ringing in the distance. As she slowly opened one eye, she felt the mattress behind her move, as if someone was getting out of bed. She lay still for a moment, trying to gauge her surroundings.

Booth. She was in Booth's apartment, in Booth's bed. Realization entered her brain gently as the pieces of her memory returned to her.

Broadsky. Vincent. Booth insisting she stay the night so he knew she would be safe. Making up the couch. Changing into Booth's sweatshirt. Coming into his room. Tears, so many tears. Being held by Booth. Kissing Booth. Holding Booth. Making love with Booth.

She smiled as she recounted that last thought. Making love with Booth. Yes, they had finally crossed the line that had been figuratively drawn in the sand. And it was then, Brennan noted, that she had one less regret in her life. That and the fact that Booth was right.

"Yes Sir. I understand Sir. No Sir, it won't happen again. Yes. I will be there. Yes Sir. You have my word Sir. Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir." Booth hung up the phone and rubbed his hand across his eyes, groaning, now wide awake. Having your butt chewed out by your boss first thing in the morning was definitely an eye-opener. Not to mention the fact that he had not had much sleep the night before.

He smiled at the reason for his lack of sleep. Dr. Temperance Brennan. Yes, she had been the reason for many nights of unrest over the years, but not for the same reason as the night before. Last night she had come to him, and after six years, they had finally come together. He knew that wasn't her intention when she came into his room last night, but it didn't matter. It was fate.

Booth pushed the door to the bedroom open and saw the aforementioned woman sitting in the middle of his bed, "Indian style". She had recovered his t-shirt from the foot of the bed once she recognized that she wasn't going to be going back to sleep, and had redressed, as best she could with just a t-shirt. The blankets were pulled up to cover her legs, affording her some sense of modesty.

"Hi," she said as Booth appeared in the doorway, clad only in his boxers. Obviously he had more luck finding his underwear this morning than she had.

"Hi." He smiled. She looked so lovely sitting there, swallowed by his shirt, her face bare of makeup, hair still a little wild from their previous activities. 'If I wasn't already in love with her,' he thought to himself, 'The sight of Bones in my shirt, in my bed, would make me fall in love with her.'

"Andrew?" he heard her ask, obviously referring to the phone call that had roused them from their slumber. Even after all that had happened, he cringed inwardly at the thought of her calling Hacker by his given name.

"Nope. Cullen. Wants to see me in his office at 9:30. To discuss Broadsky," he replied, leaving out the question Cullen had asked as to why Booth wasn't yet at work. Cullen knew Booth was always at his desk no later than 7:30 each morning, and he usually arrived even earlier. He didn't know what he was going to tell Cullen on that subject, but he knew he would come up with something other than the truth.

"Oh," she said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide a yawn.

She had slept only a few hours before she woke from the nightmare that had started the tears again. She had dreamt of the events earlier that night: laughing on the platform with Booth and Vincent, the shattered glass of the skylight, then Vincent lying on the ground in a growing pool of blood, Booth trying to stop the bleeding. Then the events changed. She had tried to keep the pressure on the wound, knowing in her mind that it was too late for Vincent, when suddenly another shot came through the glass above them. She felt, more than saw, Booth jerk beside her at the impact the bullet made when it hit his chest. She had screamed, grabbing for Booth. His blood, spilling through her fingers, just as it had that night at the karaoke bar. But she knew, this time it was for real. She yelled for an ambulance and no one around her moved. That's when she woke up, tears already streaming down her face.

Vincent's words had echoed in her mind even as she slept. _Don't make me leave._ Upon waking, she couldn't help but dissect the words and the meaning behind them. The only explanation she could come to was that there was something very wrong with her and she needed Booth to tell her what that something was. That was the reason she had gone into his room. She knew he would be asleep, but she needed to know why Vincent had said those words to her.

Lost in thought, Brennan didn't notice Booth's absence from the doorway until he sat beside her on the bed. She looked up at him, pulled from her reminiscence by the shifting of the mattress. She smiled to ease his questioning look, knowing he was concerned with the way she had "zoned out" on him.

"You okay, Bones?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Booth." Said with a small smile but he knew it to be her standard answer when she didn't want him to dig any deeper into whatever the situation. He knew she would talk about it when she was ready.

He sent a silent prayer heavenward that whatever had caused her to become lost in thought, it had nothing to do with what had happened between them. He didn't think he would be strong enough to keep going if she decided to back out now.

"Good," he replied, smiling back at her, covering his concern. "I guess I should get ready and head over to Cullen's office."

"Yes, you should. I need to go home. I need to get ready as well. For work." She felt nervous all of a sudden, sitting in bed with her partner, silently thinking about him showering, shaving, and preparing for the day ahead.

Booth felt a twinge of disappointment at her words. She wanted to go home to get ready for work? Why couldn't she get ready at his place? Why wouldn't she use his shower? Why couldn't they use the shower together? 'Whoa boy!' his thoughts rang out. 'Don't go there! You'll never make that meeting if you don't stop that thought train right now!'

Booth moved off the bed and headed into the bathroom. He wasn't sure how to approach the subject of what had happened nor did he know what to say to keep Brennan from leaving so soon, so he decided the best thing to do was to not dwell on it. They had, over the last several years, had things arise that neither had wanted to face and, sometimes, things worked themselves out without talking. He hoped this would be one of those times.

Brennan was disappointed that he left so abruptly. She had hoped they would be able to talk about what had happened, but it didn't seem like now would be the time. She scolded herself for mentioning that she needed to go home. She really didn't want to leave, but she knew she would have to eventually. She couldn't wear her clothes from the previous day and she definitely needed a change of underwear.

She pulled herself out from under the blanket and started sifting through the various sheets, blankets, and throws Booth had on his bed, searching for her underwear. She found Booth's sweatshirt, her jeans, and the pants he had been sleeping in, but not her underwear. She bent down to check under the bed, but to no avail. Booth's t-shirt was long enough that it hung to her mid-thigh, but she wasn't sure about walking around in front of Booth in just a shirt. She let out a sigh of frustration and gave up the search.

She decided to slip into her jeans and headed for the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and root around for something to eat. There would be no breakfast at the diner this morning, since Booth was running late, but they both needed some sort of sustenance to get them through until lunchtime.

With the coffee started, she began the search for food. There wasn't much in the refrigerator, and most of what she did see consisted of various kinds of meat which, being vegetarian, did not appeal to her. She moved onto the cabinets, finding little there as well. She brightened when she discovered a canister of oats in the cabinet. She knew Booth didn't like oatmeal, but it would be enough to satisfy her until she could grab lunch.

As the microwave sounded the end of the oatmeal's cooking cycle, Booth appeared in the kitchen, looking very handsome with his perfectly coifed hair, clean boxers, pressed white shirt, and goofy socks. As Brennan finished pouring her coffee, she felt him move behind her, sliding his cup along the counter, silently asking for her to pour his brew as well. After she had poured his coffee and replaced the canter on the base, the toaster signaled the end of its cooking cycle as well.

"I prepared oatmeal, if you would like to have some," she said as she moved away from him toward the microwave. She didn't have to look at him to know he was not going to accept her invitation. But she thought it best to offer. It was, after all, his kitchen and his oatmeal.

"Blech! No thanks!" he retorted, lifting the corner of his mouth in a small snarl. "Toast is just fine." He moved to the toaster and pulled the two pieces out, tossing them onto a paper towel and moved to the small table.

They smiled at one another, each knowing the other's thoughts and feelings on the choice of breakfast, both choosing to stay silent. She liked her healthy oatmeal, he did not. She felt he should eat something more than toast, but she knew he wouldn't. He knew the toast would be fine for now; they always had some sort of pastry in the break room. There would be no mention of the pastry. He didn't want her to launch into a tirade on the dangers of processed foods again.

They ate in comfortable silence, each stealing glances at the other when taking a sip of coffee or a bite of food. When Brennan stood to place her bowl and cup in the sink, Booth found he couldn't hold back any longer.

"I want to kiss you." He stood, bringing his own cup to the sink, blocking her in between his body and the counter. He had thought about it all morning, knowing he wanted to taste her again, realizing the only way that would happen would be if he took the first step. She had made that point clear when she had stated she would go home before heading to the lab.

She turned, facing him, feeling the heat from his body. His scent, so close to her, invaded her senses. "Okay." She smiled, absently moistening her lips in anticipation as his eyes darted from her eyes down to her lips and back. He smiled then, moving his hands from their place on the counter to her waist to hold her closer to him. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he slowly lowered his lips to meet her.

It felt right, as if the two partners had been made for each other. The soft skin of her lips gave way to his lead, leaning into his space with her mouth as he held her tightly in place. With a turn of his head, his tongue slid along her mouth, asking permission for entrance. She opened her lips to him, allowing her own tongue to meet his eagerly. Her arms moved from resting atop his own to encircle his neck, her hands playing with the short hairs found there, drawing him even closer.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, both enjoying the freedom to be together. When Booth finally pulled back, he couldn't believe the desire he saw looking back at him from Brennan. If it weren't for Broadsky, and his waiting superior, he would have had no trouble taking her right then and there in the middle of the kitchen. Reluctantly, he pulled back even more, letting go of her hips and feeling her hands fall away from him.

He smiled timidly, unsure of what to say or do next. He had imagined her saying 'no' to his request, not 'yes'.

"Um," he started, feeling very much like a shy little boy. "Do you need to … I mean, um, if you want to …" he said, motioning behind him, in the direction of the bathroom. He pulled at the tails of his shirt, trying to hide from her exactly how much he enjoyed her kisses while also hoping he wasn't coming across as a jerk. He didn't want to push her away, but he knew that a few more minutes of kissing like that and they would both end up being a lot later than they already were.

Brennan smiled at him, seeing the full effect their kissing had on him. She was glad that her own arousal wasn't as evident as his, but without her underwear, she needed to get home or it would become evident quite quickly.

She moved past him toward the bathroom, grabbing her bra and shirt from yesterday as he went into his room to finish getting ready. She quickly finished dressing, washed her face and, finding a new toothbrush beneath the sink, brushed her teeth. When she made her way back into the living room, she saw Booth sitting on the couch, fingering his poker chip.

"Are you going to the memorial for Vincent tonight at the lab?" she asked as she sat in the chair opposite him, putting her shoes on and beginning to gather her things so she could go. "Cam said the car will be picking up his body around seven."

"Yeah, I'll try to make it. I told Cam I'd be there if I could. It just depends on how today goes. I cannot rest until I get Broadsky. You'll be there, right?"

Brennan nodded, staring at him. The past several months had taken such a toll on him and it was beginning to show. Since Booth had trained and served with Broadsky, he took Broadsky's actions very personal.

"Booth?" She called his name as she moved from the chair to the sofa. He stopped playing with the plastic coin, looking at her move toward him. "I … don't know how to say what I'm feeling. But …," she paused, trying to find the right words.

"Just say it, Bones." He was amazed at how much she had changed since she came home from Mashapushoo Islands.

"I know you are careful, Booth, when you're hunting a suspect." He nodded, listening. "But … although it's important you catch Broadsky … I would consider it a personal favor … if you would be more careful this time." There, it was said.

Booth had shifted on the couch, moving to face her more directly. He couldn't help but grin at the request she had just made. Only his Bones would have such a hard time asking him to be careful.

"I'll be careful, Bones. I promise." He didn't realize he had said anything, until he saw her brow unfurrow. He had been lost in thought on when, exactly, he had started referring to Bones as "his". He would never call her "his" out loud; after all, he treasured his ability to breathe.

As they rose to leave, Booth's hand gravitated to the small of her back, leading her to the door. Just before they reached the door, she stopped and turned to him.

"Will you be at the memorial?" she asked, looking apprehensive.

She repeated the earlier question, masking the inquiry she really wanted to know ask. Booth stood in front of her, pulling her in for a hug. He kissed the top of her head, knowing the silent query running through her mind.

"I'll see you tonight, Bones. I'll see you tonight."

He placed a kiss on her cheek, smiling as a pink tinged her cheeks. His hand returned to the small of her back as he led her into the hallway and walked her to her car. He would see her tonight. He would make sure of it.

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